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dustbunnylair · 3 months ago

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Shubble/Shelby's Situation: People Defending The Abuser and Shaming The Victim (!TW: Mentions of abuse/abusive relationship!)

7 months ago, on February 21st, 2024, a Twitch streamer with around 468K followers spoke out about being abused by another Twitch streamer and artist, who is now her ex on a stream titled, “Talking About Something More Serious”. The Twitch streamer who spoke out goes by Shubble or Shelby, she described the at the time unnamed Twitch streamer as (mainly) British, popular, and also in the music industry, fans quickly connected the dots to the popular Twitch streamer and lead singer in the band, Lovejoy, Wilbur Soot.

I won’t go into full detail about what Shubble said, as I would prefer for people to listen to her say it, rather than someone else. But, the main things were that Wilbur did not follow a safe word that they set in place, and would bite her to the point of her screaming out in pain. He was also slobbish and dirty in his living situation. Unfortunately, Shubble has not provided any proof of bruises, markings, etc. but that doesn’t mean she’s lying, not every abuse victim documents their injuries, and honestly in my opinion, maybe she’s uncomfortable with sharing those injuries, those injuries are really none of our business to see.

A few days later, Wilbur Soot, made a response, which if you would like to read it you can find it here, I’ll sum it up to what I had processed within the response:

First off, he says it’s a response rather than an apology. Second, he didn’t even mention Shubble’s name, he only referred to her as “ex-girlfriend” or “this person” he never said her name. I want that to be emphasized because that’s quite common in abusers, they literally will not say their victim’s name(s) as a form of dissociation or just not taking accountability.

Many people including famous people such as Ranboo, Tommyinnit, Sneegsnag, Lil Tay, Billzo, Aimsey, Dream even, to fully call out Wilbur, as they should. Let’s also emphasize how absolutely batshit insane it is that Lil Tay and Billzo said shit about him, Lil Tay does not know this man and Billzo is literally never active on social media, no hate to them though obviously, shoutout to them for calling him out. Dream responding to Wilbur is so diabolical, you know an apology/response sucked ass when DREAM of all people responds to you and REWRITES the response.

I have found many people on social media, more specifically TikTok and Pinterest, borderline defending Wilbur Soot. From getting mad at Shubble for telling her viewers to stream her stream instead of Wilbur's newest song, which yeah is a bit immature coming from a 30 y/o woman, but remember this is literally her abuser and she’s probably just joking around and coping. Not to mention the person who “called out” Shubble for not being able to “move on” can’t move on from Shubble nor Wilbur themselves.

Hypocrite alert…Honestly, Wilbur defenders are either stuck in 2019-2021 or are just insanely parasocial. Wilbur does not know you, you do not know him, he is a content creator and singer. I *was* a Wilbur fan before “Your New Boyfriend” came out, and look, I’ve moved on from him, 5 years of my life went to waste but at least I’m not supporting an abuser. It’s so funny seeing Wilbur dick riders getting mad at people for calling him niblur soot or saying he has rabies and needs a muzzle.

It’s always “always believe the victim” until the abuser is someone you like or is conventionally attractive. I’ve seen multiple people ask why Shubble hasn’t sued Wilbur but has sued a car company. It’s so obvious that these people do not know shit about abusive relationships. Almost like if you were to take it to court and sue him, it wouldn’t change anything for Shubble other than some money or some shit, it doesn’t change the fact that she has trauma from the abuse, and it certainly isn’t gonna make him take accountability. Plus abuse in women or literally any gender, is invalidated most of the time.

People say that Wilbur is getting therapy just from his word. But me and other people are clearly seeing he isn’t showing change whatsoever, in fact, he literally looks like he’s on drugs, like coke. I remember someone made a TikTok talking about how skinny Wilbur looks and saying he’s probably starving himself. He’s 6’5 and has always been fucking lanky, and starving yourself isn’t the only thing that makes you lose weight, it’s also drugs!

I’m honestly just so sick and tired of seeing people say “Shubble admitted to lying” and then when you ask for proof of that they don’t respond, because she’s never admitted to that. Even other creators, not just Shubble, have come out and said Wilbur’s abusive behavior, like Tommyinnit. I mean, James Marriott hasn’t spoken out about this, and he doesn’t have to, that’s not something that’s required from him, but in one of James Marriott’s videos from 3 years ago, he and Wilbur did like this drunk video and it was called “If We Laugh, The Video Ends…(ft. Wilbur Soot)”, but throughout the video Wilbur just sometimes gets violent, and it doesn’t seem like a bit because most of the time James reacts genuinely concerned.

And before anyone uses the “Oh but he was drunk” excuse, I don’t want to hear it, the more drunk you are, the more of the real you comes out, he was drunk as fuck and his real self was coming out.

Yeah, honestly that’s all I have to say about this topic for right now. Don’t go harass Wilbur or any Wilbur supporters, just try to educate them or block them, both are valid. If I have more to add I’ll make a follow-up post. But yeah, always believe the victim, don’t defend abusers. Keep yourself safe.

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crybaby-bkg · 2 years ago

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𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

Yuuki Anzai x female reader (Devils’ Line)

Warnings: blood kink/drinking, smut, teasing, mutual masturbation, unresolved feelings, riding/cowgirl position, he scratches reader/digs his nails in, muzzles, and handcuffs. please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.1k

Notes: can’t believe I’ve loved devils line for so long and never wrote anything for anzai!! I hope you all enjoy!!

Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Also available on ao3!

Becoming a cop was never something you thought would come to fruition for you. Not because it was necessarily a dream of yours, but because you had dreams of doing something—anything—else. But, life is tricky and it turns you in all sorts of directions until, you guess, you’re where you should be.

But staying in a shared complex with other cops and Devils was something you never thought would be in the cards for you. You didn’t hate it though, found a family within the people there, a home within the chaos of the bar when everyone got a little too tipsy and happy. It was great there, and you had little issues. Well, save for one.

And that one’s name was Yuuki Anzai. A half Devil that was tormented with the Red-Eyed part of himself, self hatred oozing off of him with every plunge of an injection and suspension from higher forces. Anzai wasn’t a big issue, you had to admit, but goddamn, was it hard to force down your feelings for him.

Humans and Devils were barely prohibited to have a relationship together, much less a work-place relationship at that. But, that didn’t stop you from sneaking into his place at night when the halls are silent, and no lingering eyes follow you.

“Anzai?” You whisper as you close the door quietly behind you. “Are you up?” Your eyes dart around the room, trying to adjust to the darkness, gasping when a pair of navy blue eyes suddenly appear at your side.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Anzai murmurs, chuckles a little when you jump away from him in surprise. You pout a little, narrowing your eyes at him as you punch his shoulder, softer than you should with the way your heart damn near jumps from its cages.

“Don’t scare me like that, asshole!” You whisper-shout, arms crossed over the other as you try to make out his entire form in the still darkened room. “Can we get some light in here so I can see your annoying face?”

You hear a little puff of air blow through his nose in amusement, his feet shuffling against the floorboards, before soft light suddenly floods the room. Your eyes immediately dart to Anzai’s form, tall and lanky, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stands too close for you to not have heard him walk back over. His hair curls around the sides of his neck, his dark bangs covering his eyebrows and shadowing the eyes that stare down at you all the while. There’s a tiny little smirk on his face, and you want to kiss that mole by his mouth. So you do.

“Can I kiss you?” Anzai asks, but you’re already leaning in, stepping forward until your toes bump and your arms curl around his shoulders, bringing him to your face. You breath in his breath, smell the tea you fixed for him earlier in the night still lingering, feel his lips skim against the softness of yours. But you skip over his mouth, purposefully, lips directed to that little beauty mark that you, for some reason, can’t help but adore.

“I think you missed my mouth,” Anzai tells you, a little tut in his words as he blinks his eyes open to look at you. You smile, cheekily, shrugging your shoulders a little as you lick your lips, skimming his own in the process.

“Yeah?” You tease, swaying him a little, looking at him from under your lashes. “Wanna guide me in the right direction then?” And he barely lets you get the words out before he dives for your lips, his mouth smoothed over against yours. The kiss is both gentle and firm, his lips sliding against yours, smacking against each other as he pulls back for another one, and another one, until you have to pull back for breath.

When you do, your eyes flutter open and, it should scare you, the way red bleeds into the whites of his eyes. But it doesn’t—only a comfort to know that the man you have adored for so long loses every piece of himself whenever he gets the briefest taste of you. He wants more, and it’s obvious in the unsteadiness of his breath and the bulge that pokes at your thighs. And you do too, with your pulling hands and guiding feet over to his neatly made bed.

But Anzai stops you—he always does whenever it goes beyond kissing. He can handle that, he always tells you, but anything more makes him lose control. Is it bad that you want the loss? That you want the feral and the rawness of him letting loose and taking you in the way he cares to, so primally? Is it bad that you encourage it, with a tilt of your neck and a nod of your head?

“We can’t keep doing this.” Anzai mutters, blinking rapidly when you ignore his words to unbutton his shirt. He grabs your hands in his, making you look at him through your lashes, a soft frown forming at your lips.

“I know.” You whisper back to him, curling your fingers around his own until he embraces your hands, sighing a little under your breath. You understand his hesitance, his fear, but everything has gone right the other times? What’s so different about right now?

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admits, his eyes holding a sincerity that makes you glance away in guilt. You don’t want to pressure him, make him feel tense and worried every time you fall into bed with him. But how could you stop when everything felt so good? When the risk and the fear of it all made your orgasms taste all the sweeter?

“You won’t.” You pull your hands away from his own, cradle his warm cheeks in your palm. Anzai’s eyes flutter shut as he breathes in deeply, his mouth opening softly on his exhale before he looks at you again with a stare so intense, you wonder if telling him you love him would ruin the moment.

“This is going to be the last time, okay?” Anzai tells you, his voice firmer than you would like it to be. But you nod anyway, quickly, pulling him in for another kiss as you two fall into bed.

His shirt comes off first, and then yours, fallen into a pile on the side of the bed, long forgotten. The handcuffs are next, as you click them into place, lips locked all the while, moaning when he grunts into your mouth with every roll of your hips against his. You look down at him from where you’re perched in his lap, how the whites of his eyes are gone, now a full blood red and smoky yellow, his irises thin and slit, reptilian like. He’s never been prettier, you think, as you dive in once more to slide your tongue against the seam of his lips, feeling him invite you in as you work your bra off next.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Anzai mumbles under his breath when your tits fall in his face, eyes darting between the two, before he closes the gap of his mouth and your nipple. You throw your head back in a moan when he sucks the bud between his lips, hands pawing at your belly all the while. You run a hand threw his hair, biting at your bottom lip as you watch his mouth greedily suck at the tight skin around your nipple. When he switches to the other one, he notices you watching, moans a little around the other bud, pulls back to lick at your areola before he growls and dives in a little harsher this time when you sound prettier than he expects.

With a quickness he doesn’t anticipate, you push Anzai back down onto the bed, his hands still holding onto the fat of your stomach, as his eyes start losing a bit of their control. You tut at him, shaking your head a little when his teeth, sharpened and wide, start to protrude from his gums, grinding slowly in his lap when he goes to sit up again. You snatch the muzzle from under the bed quickly, slipping it over his head before he can get up, clicking it into place as he growls a little, bucking his hips up against your own.

“So misbehaved, aren’t you, Yuuki?” You ask him, voice a little disappointed huff, teasing, watching how his eyebrows screw down. You gasp a little, eyes fluttering, before you snap your neck down to watch how his nails protrude, poking into the thin skin of your stomach, creating a tiny little tear. You watch how the blood drips from the small wound, how it coats his fingers, how his cock jumps from underneath you at the sight and smell of it.

“I’ll let you taste it,” you tell him, leaning forward until your weight is rested against the entirety of his body. “But only if you split me open on your cock first.” You tack on the last part with a lick against his earlobe, gasping with a little chuckle when Anzai’s whole body lurches from underneath you, his words slurring from behind his big teeth and muzzled mouth.

“Fuckin’—lemme just—cmon—“ he makes no sense, and you don’t need him to. The bloodlust is damn near ripping him apart, as his eyes dart from your pants still a barrier between you two, and the red that coats his fingers the more he digs his nails into your skin. You pull back when he starts to sink too deep, swatting at him as you wag a finger in his face.

“Play nice.” You warn him, eyes narrowed as you start to slip your pants and panties down off of your legs on the side of the bed. When you’re bare, Anzai growls, deep and low in his chest, tries to remove his own bottoms, but it proves difficult with the handcuffs. So you help him, watch him wiggle his way out of them until you can shuck the bottoms off from around his feet, a growing pile of clothes in your peripheral that you can’t be bothered to care about at the moment.

You watch how, in your distractedness, that he slips his nails between the bars of his muzzle, how he licks at the blood that stains them, eyes rolling back at your heavenly taste. You shake your head at him, climbing back on top of him until your legs are spread and you sit on his thighs, right below his plump balls.

“I didn’t tell you that you could taste me yet, did I?” You ask Anzai with a cock of your head, and a pout of your lips. “Hm, seems like I forgot to prep myself first too. Let me do that now, actually.” You wink at him, watch how his eyebrows furrow down as he bucks underneath you. His cock rests on his belly, curved to the left, his tip a soft brown and pretty, leaking precum all over his navel as it twitches when your middle finger dips inside of your hole.

“You don’t prep yourself any other time. You’re just trying to punish me.” He growls, a tiny whimper in his throat, his hands unable to reach you in this position. So he holds his own cock with both hands instead, pumps it every time your finger slides inside of your cunt, a rhythm that enchants him the entire time.

“Should’ve listened then, huh?” You ask in a sigh, sliding in another finger as you go to quickly stretch yourself out. While you did it to fuck with him, you’re just as impatient to feel his fat and hot cock splitting you open better than a toy ever could. So you do it with such a quickness, that you have to force your eyes open when you hear that familiar wet sound of a cock being stroked.

Anzai looks beautiful like this—all blood red eyes and dedicated golden irises stuck on the sight of your squelching pussy, his teeth daunting and sharp from beneath the muscle, his chest and pretty brown nipples heaving with every sharp breath, his big hands engulfing his cock with every wet stroke, his thighs burning underneath you.

“Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” Anzai huffs, and you’re surprised he’s still this much in control to not be reduced only to whines and growls and grunts. Your fingers speed up at the sound of him, scissoring your fingers as you try to hurry to open yourself up to take him.

“I can’t wait to feel you around me.” He mutters, eyes clenched shut as he starts to plead under his breath. “Cmon, stop teasing me. Please.” He’s so desperate, that it almost makes you cum. You have to rip your fingers out, chest heaving as you will your orgasm away, body shuddering as your hips jerk a little, wet hole grazing the plumpness of his balls, and it’s almost enough to make him snap.

You climb on top of Anzai quickly, holding his heavy cock beneath you, sinking down on him with no preamble, no teasing, no hesitation. You had to feel him now, felt like you might burst if you waited any longer. You have to rattle the bars of his muzzle when he damn near howls when your hole starts to swallow him up, remind him that this is supposed to be secretive, that you as a human shouldn’t be riding him, a Devil, like your life depended on it.

But you both give into your primal instincts far too soon into the night, and the noises he makes are enough to alarm anyone who hears them. And if they do, they pretend to be oblivious.

“Oh shit, you’re squeezing me so tight.” Anzai grunts, eyes scrunched closed before he forces them open to watch you. Watch how your thighs bounce and tremble with every drop of your hips, how your lips swallow his cock, how your soft walls caress the veins forking up his shaft, how your slick dribbles down from your pussy to splatter and smother his balls. You’re covering him in your scent, and the blood that still momentarily drips from your belly doesn’t help either.

You must notice where his eyes have landed, as you chuckle a little, breathlessly, thighs still working as you ride his cock. You scoop a finger through the bloody mess on your skin, holding it up high in the air, watch how his eyes follow like a dog with a bone. Anzai makes a low noise between a hiss and a growl when a drop of the red liquid drips onto the hard planes of his stomach, hips starting to buck up to meet your rhythm.

“Want a taste of me? Huh, baby?” You ask him, grinning when he snarls, when he’s reduced only to noises and wordless demands of more. You give it to him, give it all, as you hold your finger above his muzzle, watch how he strains his neck to taste it when it plops against his mouth. He moans at that, head thrown back before he straightens up again, teeth clenched as he growls through them,

“More.” It’s a command that startles you, not expecting to hear such a low tone come from the usually calm and collected man. But it only makes you tighter around him, moaning a little louder than you should when he starts snapping his hips underneath you, almost throws you off of his lap from how hard he starts to fuck you.

“S-So greedy,” you try to tease him, but it’s difficult when the curved tip of his cock is hitting every right place inside of you. You listen to his demands, swipe up more blood that he carves out of you when his nails meet your skin again. You hold it over his mouth, watch how it drops and messes up the clean bars of the cage when you miss, how his thick tongue swirls around his lips to get every drop of you.

“Gonna cum,” you whimper to Anzai, barely able to keep yourself up, still letting crimson drip from your fingers to satisfy the man, the Devil, beneath you. He groans at that, at how your cunt clenches sporadically around him, finally takes his nails out of your skin to instead hold them against your mound. He’s careful in how he angles himself, until his thumb is positioned so your clit can rub against it with every stroke of his cock inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Anzai!” you whimper, eyes clenched shut as the rough pad of his thumb is enough to drive you over the edge. You cry out, louder than you should, but its hard to remember volume control when his cock and his finger feels so good against your cunt. You clench around him, feel your slick cover his cock and drip onto his balls, how wet it suddenly gets when you hear him grunt loudly before he orgasms alongside you. Its harsh and hot, makes you moan underneath your breath as you feel it spread inside of you, look between your legs to watch how it drips down the inside of your thighs to make a mess of him beneath you.

His grunts and growls are unintelligible, his noises deep and primal as he keeps shooting inside of you until his body stills and collapses on the bed. He sighs, low and quiet in his throat, and your body sags as the adrenaline starts to wear off. You glance down at the mess you’ve made, at your stomach with tiny little cuts and blood staining your skin, at what’s become of between your legs.

“Hurry up and transform back. You’re on clean up duty this time.” You tell him with a sigh, collapsing on his chest, feeling it heave a little when your tongue snakes out to cheekily swipe at his sensitive nipple.

“You’re only gonna make the process take longer if you keep touching me like that.” Anzai mumbles, cock twitching inside of you as you feel his nails scratch gently where they wrap around your neck.

“Sorry,” You giggle, hiding your face in his chest, pecking gently. Anzai strokes at your skin for a while before he finally starts to transform back, his skin losing its heat and his stroking nails back to their normal blunt state. You look up at him, at his navy blue eyes and red stained mouth, kissing at the bars of the muzzle, as he tries to kiss back.

“Get off your lazy ass already,” you tell him, laughing when he instantly blames you for not taking the muzzle and handcuffs off already. It’s a much more sweet and domestic scene than you ever thought possible with a Devil, but you already wish for more moments like this with him, without the world breathing down your necks, and with as much love in his eyes as it is in yours.

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#anzai treats! 🍬#anzai x reader #devils line sweets! 🍬#tw: blood #he fuels my muzzle kink

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